


Starthur - The Singing Detective

by YellowBananaOwl



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowBananaOwl/pseuds/YellowBananaOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin goes to the airfield looking for his phone, but finds something completely different and unexpected instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starthur - The Singing Detective

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of days late, but written as the Let’s Write Cabin Pressure’s November Challenge. Prompt: peach schnapps. 
> 
> This work has not been beta'd, so if you spot anything please let me know so I can fix it.
> 
> The characters belongs to the brilliant John Finnemore. I only play with them.

Martin swore loudly in his car all the way back to Fitton airfield. Why did he manage to forget his bloody phone on the plane? He didn't have another flight for at least three days and desperately needed to be available for removals, and it hadn't been until he was getting ready for bed he had realised he couldn't find his phone. Extremely tired and pissed off, Martin put a long coat over his pyjamas and jumped in his van. It's wasn't like he was going to be seen in public anyway and the drive to the airfield wasn't too long.

He parked his car and walked towards the portacabin. There he noticed to his astonishment that the lights were still on. Arthur must have forgotten to turn them off after he'd finished cleaning up after their trip. Martin was fumbling with his keys when he suddenly heard singing from the inside of the building.

"Only seventeeeeeeeeeeeen, dundun dundun dundun!"

"What the hell?" Martin opened the door quickly.

Inside was Arthur, wearing nothing but ridiculous boxers and headphones, jumping around with his phone in his hand and – Martin wanted to say singing, but it didn't quite cover it – wailing was perhaps a more suitable term.

"Tambouriiiiine oh yeaaaaaaah."

"ARTHUR!" Martin shouted, but the other man didn't notice him.

"ARTHUR!" Martin yelled even louder, but Arthur was completely lost in his own world.

Martin had nearly come close enough to tap Arthur on the shoulder when the man turned around in some sort of pirouette, knocking the captain to the floor.

"SKIP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Arthur cried out and helped Martin up.

"I forgot my phone."

"WHAT?"

"I forgot my phone!"

"WHAT?"

"Oh for God sake, Arthur," muttered Martin and grabbed the headphones off of Arthur's ears.

"Oh, that's better," said Arthur. "Wow, that's quiet."

"What the hell are you doing, Arthur? I thought you had finished up cleaning hours ago. It's almost midnight.

"I'm singing."

"Singing?"

"Yes, I love to sing."

"Is this something you do often?" wondered Martin, struggling not to giggle. " _Singing_?"

"Quite a bit, yes."

"And where are your clothes?"

"Over there." Arthur pointed proudly at a messy pile on the floor near Carolyn's desk.

"Arthur, have you been drinking?" Martin stared at him.

Arthur gave him a weird smile and leaned in and whispered. "Shhhh, don't tell Mum."

"Arthur, you're a grown man. You don't need Carolyn's permission to -"

"It's from the drinks cupboard on Gerti."

"Oh," said Martin. "Well, you might need her permission for that. What did you take? Nothing expensive, I hope."

"Is peach schnapps expensive?"

Martin chuckled. "Not very, it depends on how much you've taken."

"Only a tiny glass," said Arthur.

"Well that's probably fine then. I didn't even know we had peach schnapps in the cupboard."

"- before I started hoovering. And then one after I finished hoovering. Yes, we had one from when we took that hen night to Prague. And then one after I took the litter out. It was almost full. And then a tiny sip before I locked the cupboard. But they were all very small glasses, Skip. I promise. I felt sorry for the bottle standing there barely touched. Do you think Mum will be mad?"

"Oh that's quite a bit, isn't it?" Martin looked at the steward whose face was starting to look very guilty. "But I'm sure it will be fine, Arthur. Look, I forgot my phone on Gerti, did you see it while you were hoovering?"

"Sorry, no. But we can go out there and have a look, because I wasn't really looking for a phone so I didn't see it. If had known you had lost your phone I might have seen it because I was looking for it and then I would have found it."

"Well, I can go and look for it myself, you stay here and … sing."

"But I want to help you look for it, Skip. You can be Miss Marple again, and I can be your assistant. It will be brilliant! I need a name. Oh I know. _STARTHUR_!"

"Starthur?"

"Yes, Starthur, the singing detective. That's brilliant you see, because there was a singing detective on the telly and I'm singing. And I'm a _star_ , and I'm called Arthur. So _Starthur_!"

"Oh, wonderful," Martin muttered. "But you stay here, _Starthur_ , and get dressed, and I'll just have a quick look around Gerti to see if I can find my phone, and then I'll drive you home."

"Who's gonna drive you hoooome tonight," the steward bellowed out, completely off any key that was humanly recognisable. Martin sighed and walked out to the hangar.

He went into the flight deck and started looking for his phone. He couldn't immediately see it, but he was certain it had to be there. Maybe it had fallen out of his jacket and to the floor? Martin got down on all four and started looking under the seats.

"I CAME IN LIKE A WREEEECKING BAAAAAALL!"

Martin hit his head on the dashboard as the terrible noise pierced his ears. 

"Ow! Arthur, please can you stop?"

"Sorry, Skip. Did you find your phone?"

"Not yet. But it has to be here somewhere. Why aren't you dressed yet?"

"I wanted to help you. Starthur the singing detective to your rescue, Skip!" Arthur saluted him and looked absolutely ridiculous with his eyes half-shut and his red and white polkadot boxers.

"Fine. Can you check the galley?"

"Right-o!" said Arthur. "I'll check the galley. Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, Figaro, magnificoooooooo -"

"Arthur!"

"Sorry, Skip!" Arthur apologised and left the flight deck. 

Martin rubbed his head and sighed. He hoped the phone would turn up quickly. It was getting very late and he was feeling a headache coming.

However, the phone was nowhere to be seen. Where on earth could it be? He knew he'd had it when they landed because he remembered turning it back on and checking his non-existent messages. But the phone was not in the flight deck.

"Arthur?" he called as he got up from the flight deck floor. "Have you found anything?"

Arthur didn't answer and Martin went into the galley to check on him. He had been awfully quiet these last few minutes.

But Arthur was not in the galley. 

"Arthur?" Martin called out. "Where are you?"

"In here, Skip," Martin heard a voice coming from the cabin. There was Arthur sitting in the front row seats with a half empty bottle of peach schnapps.

"No, Arthur! Stop that!"

"But it's so good! Why isn't everyone drinking this all the time! It's not as good as pineapple juice, but it's _pretty_ close!"

"Arthur, put the bottle back in the cupboard and let's go."

Martin tried to take the bottle away from Arthur, but the man clutched it to his chest. 

"No! I want more! I never get to have peach schnapps! Why don't I ever get peach schnapps?"

"Arthur, please," Martin begged. "Not now. We'll talk about this some other time. Right now, you need to go home and go to bed!"

"But I'm not tired! I'm wide awake and I'm a superstar! I'm Starthur! Turn arooooound. Every now and then I get a little bit – er, how does the rest go, do you know, Skip?"

"I have no idea," sighed Martin.

"Oh, it's not important," said Arthur. "I'm Starthur! I can make my own words. Turn arooooound. Every now and then I get a little bit brilliant and Skip is also brilliant. Turn arooooound -"

"Arthur, can you please shut up? I'm tired and I just want to find my phone and go home."

Arthur fell quiet for a minute and sat down in his seat and took a sip from the bottle.

"And I'll take that," said Martin and grabbed the bottle out of Arthur's hands. 

Arthur whimpered.

"Good grief, Arthur. How much have you had? The bottle is almost empty. Have you been drinking it straight out of the bottle?"

"No, I used glasses earlier, but the bottle's more fun."

"I bet," sighed Martin. "You haven't even mixed it with anything have you? Like soft drinks?"

"YOU CAN MIX IT WITH SOFT DRINKS? And make _fizzy_ peach schnapps?" Arthur grabbed the bottle from Martin's hands and stared at it. "WOW!"

"Come on mister Starthur. Let's get you home."

"Can I bring the schnapps?"

"Fine."

"Can I make fizzy schnapps?"

"No."

"Why not?" Arthur whined. "It sounds brilliant!"

"I bet it does," said Martin. "But come along now. Let's get you back to the portacabin and find your clothes."

"Right-o," Arthur followed Martin out of the plane and stood on the ground tripping and studying the bottle while Martin locked Gerti up. 

"Good god, Star-boy, you're icey cold. Let's get you home." Martin put his arm on Arthur's shoulder and steered him in the direction of the portacabin.

Martin went to pick up Arthur's clothes while the other man went straight to the refrigerator.

"What are you doing now?"

"Looking for fizzy drinks."

"No, Arthur! Put your clothes on and let's go."

"I don't want to!"

"Arthur!"

"I want to stay here. It's much more fun."

"I'm serious, Arthur, I going to drive you home now, put your clothes back on. You're going to catch pneumonia."

"Nah, I like it like this. My clothes are too warm, this is much better."

Martin groaned and took of his coat. "Fine, take my coat then."

"Aw, Skip, you're already in your jammies. Let's have a slumber party! We can play fizz-buzz and all sorts of games."

"No! No! Absolutely no! You are putting on my coat and I am driving you home. And we're not playing anything."

"Except yellow car."

"No yellow car either, Arthur!"

Arthur chuckled. "You're _always_ playing yellow car, Skip. It's the _law_."

Martin sighed, but managed to wrap his coat around Arthur's body. It looked absolutely ridiculous on him. It was too tight, the arms were too short and it barely reached the end of his boxers. But at least it was something. Martin turned off the lights and locked the portacabin and he and Arthur got into Martin's van. Arthur needed a bit of help getting his seatbelt fastened, but a couple of minutes later they were on their way.

"One man went to mow. Went to mow a meadow. One man and his dog."

"I'm not saying woof woof, Arthur."

"Awww, but Skip, it was so much fun the last time. Come on, do it!"

"Arthur, please. I'm getting a serious headache, can you please be quiet for just a few minutes?"

"Sorry, Skip."

Arthur tried to stay quiet, but of course it had to happen.

"YELLOW CAR!"

"ARTHUR!" Martin almost lost control over the van, but managed to keep it on the road.

Arthur started giggling. "Yellow Carthur. I can be Carthur!"

"What happened to Starthur? Grew tired of him already, did you?"

"One can _never_ get tired of Starthur."

"Do you want to bet?" Martin muttered to himself.

"Starthur is brilliant! Starthur is a superstar. STARTHUR was meant to flyyyyyy."

"Good god," Martin moaned and stepped on the gas to reach Carolyn's house faster.

But when they reached the house, Arthur refused to go in. Martin tried to convince him that Carolyn would _not_ kill him for drinking the schnapps, but Arthur wouldn't budge. 

"Can't we have a slumber party at your house, Skip? Bagsy the floor!"

"Okay, Arthur, listen to me. You can stay the night at my flat, but we're _not_ having a slumber party."

"But if we'll be sleeping and there are two of us, then it's automatically a _slumber_ party, isn't it?"

They arrived outside Martin's place fourteen minutes and three _Old MacDonalds_ later.

"Arthur -"

"Starthur," Arthur corrected him.

"Fine, Starthur," said Martin and stopped the car. "It's almost two in the morning and there are several students living in this house. Let's play a game called let's-not-wake-anybody-up-and-go-straight-upstairs-and-to-bed-okay?"

"Oh! Will there be a prize?"

"Yes the prize will be sleeping off this massive headache. Please, Arthur!"

Arthur pretended to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key. Then he grinned widely and fumbled with this seatbelt. Martin jumped out of the van and ran over to the other side to help Arthur get out and into the house as smoothly as possible. As he helped Arthur out he noticed something on the floor. His phone! It had been in his car all along. Martin moaned. Why hadn't he searched his van before driving to the airfield? This whole night could have been avoided.

"You found it!" Arthur cried out. "Miss Marple and Starthur the singing detective solved the mystery!"

"Arthur, shhhh!"

Arthur slapped his hand on his mouth and rezipped it and shot Martin an apologetic look.

Martin looked at Arthur. What would have happened to him if he hadn't showed up? Maybe he would have danced and sung himself hoarse? Maybe he would have passed out inside Gerti or the portacabin? Maybe it was a lucky break that Martin had went to look for his phone anyway?

"Okay, Arthur. Are you ready to climb some narrow stairs and be absolutely quiet?" 

Arthur nodded.

Although Arthur didn't sing or speak, the journey from the car and to Martin's attic was anything but quiet. First of all, Arthur managed to stumble and fall, taking one of the bins with him in the process. When Martin finally got him to the front door, the steward leaned on the door bell. Together with two of the students they woke up, Martin finally got Arthur up to his room and dropped him on the bed.

He thanked the students for their help, apologised madly and then found the inflatable mattress in the closet and started pumping air into it. He had a feeling he would _not_ get to sleep in his own bed even if Arthur had bagsied the floor.

Martin made the bed with some spare blankets and a pillow and pulled the duvet over Arthur before crawling onto the mattress on the floor.

"Good night, Arthur," he whispered, but the other man was already snoring.

Martin had almost fallen asleep when he felt the mattress move. Suddenly Arthur's body was beside him, his heavy arm slung over Martin.

"Arthur, what are you doing?"

"I want to sleep the floor. I love inflatable things. It's like sleeping on air. It's like flying and sleeping at once."

Martin didn't reply, but tried to wriggle away and give Arthur his space.

"No, stay!" Arthur mumbled.

"What?"

"Don't go," Arthur said and pulled Martin closer to him.

This wasn't the first time the two of them had shared a bed, Carolyn's knack for saving money had made sure of that, and Martin had no problems sharing a room with Arthur. But it was the first time this much physical contact had been involved. Martin felt a bit awkward and lay absolutely stiff and immovable.

"Arthur?" Martin whispered after a little while.

"Mmmm?"

"What happened tonight?"

"Huh?"

"Why were you alone in the portacabin drinking? That doesn't seem like you."

"No reason," said Arthur.

"Do you do it often?"

"No."

"I never thought you liked drinking."

"I don't. But I like peach schnapps."

"So I've noticed."

"But Mum won't ever let me have peach schnapps."

"I wonder why." Martin chuckled.

"But sometimes, when I have to stay behind and hoover Gerti after a hen night, I take a tiny sip. Please don't tell anyone!"

"I won't," Martin reassured him. "But it wasn't just a tiny sip tonight, was it?"

"No, tonight was fun," Arthur laughed. "I was singing and dancing and being brilliant. And then you came and I got to show you Starthur and you were even more brilliant and let me sleep here with you."

"Why didn't you want to go home, Arthur? I'm sure your own bed would be a lot more comfortable than this."

Arthur didn't answer at first, but he fastened his grip around Martin, squeezing him. "I like this a lot better."

Martin had to admit that Arthur made a good point. This really wasn't that bad. It was still quite awkward, but also nice in a weird way. Feeling the warmth and the touch of another body made Martin relax. 

"Mum was mad when she left," Arthur suddenly said. " She'd already used code red twice, and then I tripped and spilled a drink on one of the passengers and the seat. She was very mad because we're already late and Herc was coming over and she said she didn't have the time to clean up after an idiot. So she told me to clean Gerti properly and not come home until I've finished. I don't mind hoovering alone and when I saw the schnapps bottle I thought I'd treat myself to a tiny sip. Only, it tasted so good and it made hoovering even more fun. Do you know that the hoover makes the same sound as one of the ringtones on my phone? Do you want to hear it?"

"No thanks, I believe you."

"And then when I finished cleaning Gerti, I thought I'd just be nice and clean the portacabin too. Just to make Mum not mad at me. But I guess the peach schnapps wanted me to sing and dance instead, and that's brilliant too. Singing and dancing are always brilliant and it makes Starthur and that's even more brilliant. But I forgot all about the cleaning, and I think I broke a lamp. And then I got very warm from the dancing and that's when you came."

"So now you're worried what Carolyn might say if she finds the portacabin all messed up?"

Arthur nodded.

"And you drank a whole bottle from the cupboard."

"Yes."

"And she was mad at you before all this happened." 

Martin didn't blame Arthur for being scared even if he was a grown man. Carolyn could be terrifying when she was in one of her moods.

"I'll tell you what, Arthur. Tomorrow morning, I'm taking you to the shop so you can buy another bottle of peach schnapps and replace this one. We will clean up the portacabin in no time and Carolyn will never know. It will be our little secret."

"Do you mean that, Skip?" Arthur sat up in the bed and beamed at him.

"Absolutely." Martin smiled back.

"Just our secret? Not even Douglas will know?"

"Not even Douglas."

"Brilliant!" yawned Arthur and lay down next to Martin. "I look forward to it, Skip. We get to go on another road trip. We should go on road trips more often, Skip. Our road trips are brilliant! Even Diego thought so."

Martin smiled. It had been quite brilliant the last time, up until the whole water bottle missile incident, of course.

"We make a good team you and I."

"Who? Miss Marple and Starthur?" Martin chuckled.

"No, just Martin and Arthur," Arthur said. "You're brilliant, do you know that?"

Martin chuckled. "It has been mentioned, yes."

"Well, I mean it," said Arthur. "You're the most brilliant person in the world." 

Martin felt a pair of warm and wet lips kiss his left ear and couldn't help but smile. The fact that someone thought of him as the most brilliant person in the world warmed his insides more than anything had ever done before, and the fact that that someone was Arthur only made it better. Even a drunk Arthur. 

"You're brilliant too, Arthur," he whispered back and felt Arthur squeeze him tightly before they both fell asleep.


End file.
